


Psychotica. (MarkiplierxReader)[BOOK ONE]

by milktree



Category: Markiplier(YouTube RPF), mark fischbach - Fandom, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Blood and Gore, Different than anything I have ever written omg, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, I will add more tags as the story goes on, Markiplier Fandom, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, There will also be flings with other characters, but you'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-21
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-22 16:39:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4842707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milktree/pseuds/milktree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Book 1 of 3>><br/>"Pretty girl, this isn't our place...we will escape even if the blood will be on our hands in the end,"</p><p>Two broken yet fierce minds unite in an effort to escape their mental prison and on their path they engage in a life of decadence and violence that can only be described as the beginning of a bloody indulgence....</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the color.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! Hi, everyone! :D This is a brand new story for you all. I hope you all like it! It's different than anything that I have ever written before so this is really exciting for me. It's a very dark plot so I give you all warnings right here and now that this is a normal love story like Honey. This is something entirely different. But either way, thank you so much for reading and I hope you all enjoy the experience. 
> 
> **I have also taken a note from one of my readers and decided to use minimal descriptors so that it can be more of a personal experience for you all. :D Let me know what you all think.

I.

I've never been one to talk to much about myself. Even now as I lay in on the flat bed, staring at these white walls, nothing seems to register in my mind. The moving life outside unknown to me. I've been here for a while now...

Ever since I was ten years old.

They say what happened to me was caused by trauma. I guess that's what's suppose to happen when your father kills your mother right before your eyes before killing himself. The images of blood running down upon the plush beige carpet of our living room would flash in my mind every now and again. I even remember the events before all of it happened. The gleam of my mother's white smile and her shimmery eyes, the way her deft fingers would tug gently at my glossy hair, complimenting and admiring the work she had help bring into this world.

I could still feel here now, even in this place where I was guarded without a lapse in time. They would give me pen and paper so I can write out my feelings so I can give it to my doctor. I held my pen in my hand now, trying to understand what they wanted from me. I had nothing to give them. They think they knew everything about me, how my mind worked and what needed to be done in order for me to be a 'happy citizen' in society.

They knew nothing. 

Every time I go to see my doctor, the word 'sociopath' is quietly whispered among the proper voices and the crystal tones of placid kindness and orderly knowledge. I hated them all. They all thought they had me figured out, even the orderlies who would escort me back to my room and give me my medicine before they would try to let their hands creep across my skin in a twisted taboo. They all thought they knew everything because everyone had told them what was best. 

Fuck them. Fuck...them.

I threw my pen across the room before running my hands through my thick, glossy hair. My eyes dart across the room, wincing at the whiteness. I wanted to get out of here. I could bear another moment in this lie. This poor excuse of a helping hand.

I don't need help. I never needed help. My father was the one who needed help. He was the one who did a bad thing, not I. I was just a witness, a witness of pain and engraved memories that have haunted me into my young adulthood. There would be days were I would forget time, forget my age even until I would get a carefully cut piece of cake with a single candle on top with a hastily written 'Happy Birthday' on a folded note card along with my age as well as a birthday hat to wear the rest of the day. That was it.

Uneventful. Everyday.

It was the same routine of life that you get used to especially if you lived here as long as I have. Everything just seems to be this colorless life that I knew I wasn't the only one experiencing. A colorless lie telling us how we aren't in a stable mindset to function in the real world. A lie where you have to worry about salty mush of cornmeal, aggressive hands, both restraining and sexual, and making sure to put on a smile for your doctor. 

Because they are here to help. They know everything...at least they think they do. 

I tug at the sleeves of my jumpsuit, the faded grey meshing with the white room and the Bible that sat in the corner untouched in the corner of my room. Everybody had one. Religion saves, they say. It saves your mind and soul, they say. I lower my eyebrows before turning away and staring ahead at the walls, so lifeless and void of color.

No color.

My head darts into the direction of the door, making me lick my lips and stare irritably at the orderly and the nurse that walked in the room. There goes those smiles, those fake smiles. Fools.

“Well, good evening, Y/N. Are you ready to see Dr. Stewart? Come on, honey,” the nurse spoke happily as she beckoned for me. 

I felt my lip twitch before standing to my feet. The orderly grabbed my arm and yanked me towards the door, closing my room door behind me as we headed down the halls. I could hear the soft moans of the other patients in their own room, their pain that they all ignored as we made our way down the hall. It was if it all didn't exist; as if these people were invisible. I trip over my ankles a bit as the orderly yank me up a bit, I could hear his chuckle in my ears. I look up at him, his thick jaw clenched as he held me tight. I knew all of them got some kind of pleasure out of using their strength and hurting people, in more ways than one. I could hear the nurse giggle as she talked with the orderly. I looked up when I saw another orderly coming down the hall, he was holding the arm of a young man.

He had thick dark hair, shiny and swooping and dark brown eyes that were slightly almond shaped. His mouth spread in a grin, making his eyes close and askance in glee. His strong jawline covered in stubble. He let out a short laugh as he struggled with the orderly before the orderly slammed him against the wall. He laughed like God, deep and rumbling.

I felt my heart itch to explode in my chest as his dark orbs darted over at me. They were intense and full of vitality. I didn't take my eyes off of his for a moment, even as I tried to stop to look more closely at him and the orderly beginning to pull at me to continue on my path. The nurse rolled her eyes and looked at the orderly that was holding the young man against the wall. 

“Get that heathen in his room! He's distracting the other patients. He'll cause a disturbance,” the nurse scowled, making the orderly nod and roughly grab the man off of the wall. Our eyes didn't disconnect for a moment, a glint suddenly arising in his inkwell orbs followed by a charming yet unforgettable grin for me. It was fleeting, a fast moment in time yet it seemed to go on for an eternity. For the first time in a long time, at that momentary image that will forever stay in my mind,

I saw color.


	2. pretty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger Warning: This chapter contains non-graphic rape/non-con. Reader's discretion is advised.*
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented, left kudos and read the first chapter. You all are awesome! Thank you so much. Here is the next chapter for you all. I hope you all enjoy it. I am having a lot of fun writing this story because I've had this idea for a while so thanks for the support!~
> 
> And always, as a refresher :D  
> L/N - Last Name.
> 
> Y/N - Your name or First name

II.

 

Dr. Johann Stewart was always a nice man. His face always bore a simple smile and his hazel eyes dancing with benignity. His auburn hair brushed neatly away from his face and his nose holding up his horn-rimmed glasses. Now as I sat in office on the plush chair, watching his dexterous hands flip through my file to refresh himself on anything that might have happened through the week, I studied him. His eyebrows would furrow whenever he would study a certain detail and he would tap his fingers against his cherry oak desk. Every now and then, a soft murmur would pass from his pink lips before he would flick his tongue across them, as if it wanted to rid the words from them. He would then run a hand through his hair and dart his eyes up at me, giving me a soft smile that I can only classify as a courtesy.

A very nice man.

“So how are you feeling, Y/N?” he finally spoke up as he took out a pad to write down what I could guess was his thoughts about what I was feeling. I've always wondered what he had to say about me, what he thought of me. It could only be pity like the rest or maybe a sort of fear at what I would become, the thing that they wanted to prevent. I smile softly at him, still studying the lines of his body as I tried to detect an sign of a negative emotion.

“I've been well...,” I murmur gently, relaxing back against the chair. Dr. Stewart only nodded before scribbling furiously on his pad. The sound of pen scratching against the paper the only sound in the room along with the slow tick of the clock. 

“Have you still been having the dreams about your father?” he inquired.

“I...I have,”I utter, frowning softly.

“Have you been talking to other patients? They can sometimes help. Even though, I'm here to help you. All of us encourage you to make friends here,” he suggested, making me narrow my eyes at him.

I didn't need to make friends. I was fine on my own, living and trying to fake my way in getting out of this God-forsaken place. I sigh loudly, making him shift in his seat.

“I don't need friends,” I say simply, making him frown deeply before scribbling on his pad once again. 

I didn't like when he would write when I felt resistant, as if they had something else planned for me in the future. I felt my heart throb in my chest as I felt a certain anger build up inside of me. Who the hell were they to tell me how I needed to feel?

“Now, Y/N. We agreed to this as part of your treatment. In order for you to feel better about the world around you, you need to open up and share yourself with others. You can't stay in your shell,” he said gently, his modulated voice filled the quiet of the room. I stare silently at him, unable to agree with him. I was fine in my solidarity; all I wanted was to get the hell out of here. I chew on my lip, trying to control my temper. I didn't want to deal with another day in the 'Happy Box'. My last time in the Happy Box happened when I had 'attacked' a nurse because she decided it would be a splendid idea to try and pry my mouth open with her hands. My teeth happened to dig into her as a result. 

It wasn't my fault.

I couldn't say that the 'Happy Box' was a bad place, it didn't present itself as one. I would just have to sit in the room, glancing around at the sunny yellow walls littered with random faded stuffed animals. Their button eyes sometimes hanging by a single thread as if they were clawing themselves apart at the silence. The word 'Smile' written in a bubbly cursive to try and invoke joy in its visitor. The room presented a different kind of vibe, a veil of false hope to cover the pain that it had seen. 

I snapped back to attention when Dr. Stewart tapped gently at his desk, making me watch his hands before looking at him curiously. 

“Do you understand, Y/N?” Dr. Stewart said, studying me slowly.

I blink before nodding. For good measure, I gave him a bright smile. I hope that would be enough for him to leave me alone. I had to figure out a way to make it seem like I was getting better so I didn't have to see him again. I didn't believe in any of this psychotherapy remedies that they fed me. I would think that since they went to school for so long to get their beautiful, polished degrees that they would be good at what they do. Dr. Stewart drew back at the sight of my smile, wincing as if it hurt to see it. This reaction earned a small chuckle from me. I loved to make him feel uncomfortable. There were times were I felt like the doctor and he was the patient, the way I would pick at him. He knew it as well. 

“G-Great, wonderful,” he said, regaining himself as he began to write down more on his notepad before ripping it from the small spiral. He stapled it to one of the papers in my file before closing the manila folder. He cleared his throat before looking back up at me, looking as if he was relieved that the smile was gone from my face. 

“I believe that you can do anything, Y/N. The sooner you can complete your therapy and show us that you are well, you can leave and start a new life. It's all in your hands. I know how smart you are. You have a lot of sense, don't let it go to waste, yeah?” he said before giving me a small smile. A smile that I came to knew as the farewell smile. He might not have known it but I knew more about him than he understood. He put on the same generic smile every time it was ready for me to go. Our sessions usually lasted longer but he knew that he wasn't going to get much from me today. I smirked when he hit a tinkling bell on his desk and the orderly came in and lifted me from my chair. The last glimpse I got was of Dr. Stewart saying good bye to me before the door shut. 

*

I've always dreaded the showers. The way that they handled you as if you were just a doll that they were dressing or yanking you closer to the water when ever you would pull away from it. The whispered caring words of nurses murmuring in your ear or the nightmarish chuckles of sneaky orderlies who let the scared whimpers of pain and misery go unnoticed as they fulfilled their sexual pleasures. 

The lukewarm water spraying down your back while the nurses watched you and aided you when needed. It was always something new whenever we would come here. It would either be a nurse being attacked by a patient or a patient fighting off the orderlies which would result in them being sedated and dragged away.

This time, a girl screamed uncontrollably as the water hit her skin. Her dishwater blonde hair sticking to her face, her amber eyes wild. Her screams were bloodcurdling, making the nurses jump and run over to her. Their uniforms getting wet from the showers as well as some of the patients grabbing at them. I remained still under the running water as they yanked away from the prying hands. The girl's slender body shaking, throwing her arms around her bird-like chest. She shrunk away from the nurses, closing her eyes tightly as she began to fight them off. Finally, one of the orderlies make their way into the shower and grabbed her, her screams getting louder as she automatically tried escape from his strong grip. The orderly dragged her out, her body sliding against the slick shower floor. The nurses quickly followed behind, quickly wanting to get out of the spray of water and the hellish hands. The look of humor on their faces as they looked at the crying girl contrasted the horror etched on her face, her voice becoming hoarse from screaming and her eyes glistening with what could only be the sincerest of mental turmoil.

They sedated her. Her glistening eyes roll back, letting the tears that wanted to be free roll down her face. The drug affected her as soon as the drug's needle pierced the surface of her pale skin. I couldn't tear my eyes away all of the screaming and fighting just stopped.

Just like that.

It wasn't as if I've never seen this before but it always stopped me every time. It was intriguing how fast these sedatives worked They were like quicksilver in the blood, shutting down your resistance and all of your fears. The slowing of the limbs and the twitch that would shake the victim was appealing to my eyes. It was something beautiful in its attack. 

They half-dragged and carried her out of the showers while the nurses continued on as if nothing happened. Their clothes still wet and their voices still monotone as they gave us small words of encouragement to continue bathing just like before. The scent of generic soap filling the steam-filled air. In staying with our daily routine, after being dressed in clean cotton undergarments and hastily cleaned jumpsuits, we are escorted to the lunch hall. Ny wt hair clinging to my back, a shiver racing down my spine when the cold air hit me. I let my tired eyes look up at the dull faces of the lunch ladies who waited to serve us. The plates filled with the stuffing mush, a slice of ham and a side of  
soft peas.

They all loved to watch you. I would always hoped that my glares would make them turn away, just so I could make them feel uncomfortable. I hated them. They watched to make sure that you were eating, they had trouble recently with patients making themselves go hungry, hoping that starvation would be one of the ways to free themselves from this place. Whenever they would catch you they will say your last name or tap you, urging you to eat.

I frowned deeply before I look up at the orderlies and the lunch ladies who looked at us with just as much disdain.

“L/N,” once of the orderlies suddenly called out. “Eat,”

Just as I thought.

I sigh softly, leering angrily at them before I look down at my food. I take a spoonful of the mush and scoop it into my mouth I twitched at the warm, bitter taste of the stuffing that hit my taste buds. I had the urge to spit it back out but swallowed it all down. My stomach automatically disagreed with it, making it churn. I clamped a hand to my stomach, willing myself to not vomit. The bile bubbling in my stomach and my throat turning and seeming to widen, wanting to rid myself of it. I swallowed once more before I tried another bite, quickly washing it down with milk. I took a deep breath before slowly trying to stomach down the rest of the food as quickly as I could.

My body hated me. 

My stomach would protest with every bite. You would think that one would be accustom to the food but you never get used to it. I could barely remember what normal food tasted like. The faded memories of my mother's country-fried steak and her mashed potatoes filled my head. All I could remember was how good it tasted, the way the burst of seasoned flavor would spread across my tongue. A long-lost memory that I wished to have once more, better than this slop. 

I pushed my food around my plate before looking up and pausing when I saw the young man from earlier make his way through the line.

The color.

I stared at him openly as I took in the sight of his dark disheveled hair and strong shoulders until he glanced in my direction. He smiled darkly, which I didn't return. What was he smiling about? His fiery dark eyes squinted, analyzing me just like I did to him earlier before he gingerly walked to his seat. 

His movements were smooth and careful. I could tell that he had experience using his reflexes, the way he reacted and moved. He was very precise, his hands almost hard to catch when he would motion or move. I looked away from him but I could still feel his eyes on me. I smirked silently; I didn't care about his glare. I could sense the curiosity and the waves of humor. I look back over at him, narrowing my eyes at him which seemed to make his smile spread wider.

Throughout the rest of the day, we engaged in small staring contests as if we were trying to pick each other apart without words. I wanted to catch every single thought through his eyes. Every glint, deepening of darkness and quick flash told a million stories that I would never know and I despised it. Even now in our small 'recess', the day was a huge contrast to the emotionless faces of the patients roaming the gated grounds. I lean against the wall, watching them all walk around aimlessly among one another, not knowing that they were alive.

I could see the color's dark gaze still staring at me.

Searching me...  
Mirroring me...

A soft smirk on his face, the sun getting caught in his hair, as he stood on the far side of the grounds. When I did engage his eternal glare, it was as if no one was around. Everyone moved in slow motion as if he was channeling me, daring me to react to him. 

The solidarity...

As the bell sounded, the orderlies filed out to escort us back inside. My eyes scanned around me, searching for the color. Like a specter, he was gone, only to appear again once it was time for supper. The soupy mashed potatoes mocked my earlier thoughts of my mother's cooking as it sat dormant on my plate. Yet, to appease the guards who kept a watchful eye on me, I gnawed delicately on the piece of tough pork before swallowing. I closed my eyes and patted my chest to make the bite go down, the food getting stuck in my chest. It slithered down slowly, making let out a soft breath. 

This time, he didn't look at me. He was intently chewing and eating his food. He ate as if he hadn't eaten in years, using the back of his hand to wipe the runny potatoes from his chin. His pink tongue swiping across his bottom lip, almost primitively. He darted his eyes at me before looking back down at his tray.

I looked back towards my plate as well, continuing to eat as I saw guards look in my direction. I was ale to choke down the rest of my food before the end of dinner. I winced as an orderly grabbed my arm and escorted me back to my room.

This certain orderly I was very familiar with. I was the only patient he visited for his 'needs', ever since I was thirteen years old. A time where the miracles of budding womanhood became more and more apparent and the eyes of men would draw to you. A turbulent and hazy time. I would get a touch here and there, slick words whispered at me when I would pass but he was the only one who acted on me. The only name I knew him by was Joseph, the name etched on his uniform. I had grew to understand why this was happening and decided to block it all out until I was immune to the emotion of it all. 

Even now as I watched him unbuckle his belt in front of me and freeing himself, I could only feel numbness. 

It didn't hurt. I hasn't hurt for a while now. I've had a lot of practice. Avoid eye contact, retreat into your thoughts. Don't forget to breathe. Always make sure to breathe. It wasn't hard anymore. It didn't hurt but when it used to, it was bad. 

But now, I lay patiently and I waited. My eyes fluttering as his stale tobacco breath fanned across my face. His grunts deep and violent, like his moving hips. 

I've learned not to scream or cry. Not anymore. Suddenly, it felt like my insides were swimming as he released. I close my eyes as he palms my face, pushing it into the mattress as he then rams into me painfully, rocking me hard before suddenly pulling out. The side of my face felt hot when he removed his palm, making me instinctively bring my cold hand up to cool it down. 

As soon as he came, he was gone, buckling his pants on his way out, closing the door behind him. I close my sore legs and began dressing myself, making note to drink the pennyroyal tea that he would sneak in before they would escort me to breakfast and to visit Dr. Stewart.

I felt warm. I felt empty. To be void of emotion was unlike human nature, they say. Maybe I wasn't human anymore...

Maybe I was nothing. 

I shifted, feeling his seed slick on my thighs. I briefly wondered what it felt like to be a man and reach a peak so easily. It must be nice...

Nice to feel a sense of completion, even if it meant violating someone's dignity and breaking them apart. I curl up on my bed and close my eyes, hoping to fall asleep. I wanted to start a new day yet I was wide awake. Hours passed, late in the night, I heard crinkling. I let my eyes stare up at the ceiling as I listened intently. The sound of paper faintly being pushed across the floor made me sit up. I carefully stood on my sore legs, ignoring the pain as I crouched, following the source of the sound. I narrow my eyes as the only light being the sliver from underneath my door and the moon shining in from the barred window. 

It was beside my bed, a crumpled piece of paper that laid beside the small hole that was once home to a mouse that I had killed once I found it chewing on my bed sheets. I had to have a conference with my doctor afterwards when they had found out, hoping to find that I didn't get any joy out of killing a living thing. I would be lying if I said that I didn't but to make them happy, as usual, I lied. I snatched the paper from the floor before walking over to the barred window.

The moon glowing in the sky as I held the note to the light. I squint my eyes slightly as the moonlight illuminated the page. My eyes read the words over and over before my soft voice floated in the room, reading the short note aloud,

You're pretty.

Pretty. Pretty...

Who thought I was pretty? I glance at the wall as if I wanted to see the person who sent me the note through the barrier between us. I didn't pay attention to the people around me because I didn't care enough to find out. 

I tilted the note in my hand, the hasty cursive and the boldness of the words made me think of it as a male. 

It could be a woman as well. It didn't matter...I folded the paper and set it on my desk before climbing back into bed. My eyes widen when I thought of it possibly being 'the color'.

Could it?

I rolled onto my back, wincing in irritation at the image of Joseph thrusting above me filling my mind before turning on my side. I didn't want him in my dreams tonight. It angered me the last time he had visited me. The dreams were reoccurring and all the same. 

I laid on my side, my ears listening intently to every sound, every creak, every distant shout and cry beyond my walls of my own room until I finally fell asleep, resting my worn bones.


	3. Mark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O hai dere! I'm just chilling in here. I am finally able to update after so much time. I truly apologize. This new job has been wearing me out lately :( But I hope you all enjoy this new chapter. :D I am having a lot of fun writing this story. I have always had this idea in my head (ever since I was 15) so I'm happy that I am able to write it out. Thank you so much to every one who has commented and sent kudos and everything! I appreciate you all so much. You have no idea. 
> 
> Enjoy!

III.

I woke up with a start, my eyes bleary. I put my hands up to them and rubbed them softly before sitting up on my bed. As I expected, there was a small cup sitting on my desk. The gentle soft pink color different from the last cup I had, which was a solid dark blue color. I wince as I shift on the bed, staring at the cup from where I sat. Its lone presence mirroring my own. I let out a soft sigh of dread before I then raise up from where I sat on the bed. I stumbled a bit on my feet as my body tried to adjust to the soreness of my limbs, the pain searing across my womanhood and inner thighs, throbbing painfully. I gently reached for the rose cup and held it up to my chapped lips. The cool herbal tea hit my lips and made its way down to my belly to do its work.

Distill the life.

It washed the walls of stomach, making me wonder what the process was it commenced in my system. It made me wonder what magic it would do in killing the fertilized egg inside of me, stopping its growth and progression to form into a small human. I shiver slightly as the cold tea splashed across my tongue as I swallowed the rest of it down quickly. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, staring at the pretty rose pink cup in my grasp. I set the cup back down on my desk and lick my lips, my eyes more clear as I gaze out at the dim sunlight in the sky. The sky a swell of orange and melting lavender and pink, looking as if the earth had been reborn once again-every single morning. I glance over at the sloppily-folded note in the corner of my desk. I gently unfolded it and re-read those two simple words before sitting it on the desk. I figured that I should respond, the note itself had intrigued me, making me wonder more and more about the sender's identity. I didn't know if they were awake or not but I believed in interesting exchanges, especially in this bland existence in between these walls. I carefully wrote out my message on the paper.

Who are you?

It was simple enough. It was the first question that I could think to ask. 

I quickly folded it before kneeling beside the bed. I pushed it into the small hole, my eyes meticulously watching it scoot through the hole and into the next room. I raised up to my feet before sitting on my bed, keeping a watchful eyes on the hole. I strained my ears to listen, hoping to hear the shuffling of feet or the sound of someone's body brushing against the wall or the crumpling, slightly scraping sound of the paper unfolding. Everything was silent, more silent than it usually ever is. Was it the anticipation?

I suddenly heard the familiar crinkling of paper that I had been waiting on, making me peer over at the crumpled up paper in the hole. I reached over the edge of the bed and carefully pulled the paper out. My body craning to reach it before I inched back up onto the bed. I began to unfold the paper and reading what was written on it. 

I am Mark. What is your name, pretty girl?

Mark....

I lower my eyelids at the message before grabbing my pad and began to write my reply. I felt no danger about sharing myself with this faceless person. I could feel his aura seep through the wall that separated us. He was waiting on me. I could sense him wanting to come closer to me, feeling his presence against the wall. 

My name is Y/N.

I write my name carefully on the paper, studying the light cursive on the paper before I kneel beside the bed and pushed the paper back through the lone path leading to Mark's room. I watch carefully, trying to see any sign of movement. I shifted on my sore knees, groaning slightly as I continued to peer through to try and catch a glimpse of the room's inhabitant. My eyes widen a bit when they catch the quick flash of movement when the note was swiped from the hole. I pull back, sitting back on my haunches and ignoring the pain as I waited patiently. My mind focused on the entryway that to the room next to me. My knees digging into the hard floor. I wanted to read the message before they came to my door to take me away to start the day. I quickly snatched the paper before it was finished being pushed through, almost ripping the paper. I opened it to read the words scrawled across the paper.

Look through the hole.

I look up from the note, sitting the note beside me on the ground. I looked at my room door. I licked my lips as I slowly lowered my body to the ground and scooted closer to the hole. I felt myself becoming wary as my eye peered through the hole, waiting to see what was suppose to come. The opening was a decent size, enough to see a couple of inches of the far wall. A shadow of a figure darkened the floor before stretching bigger as the person knelt. I raised an eyebrow as a light gold hand came into view before the sight of a dark, twinkling eye came into view as well. The eye scrunched up in glee, he was smiling. The shock of inkwell hair when he moved his head and the line of his jaw confirmed my thoughts.

It was him...  
The color had a name.

Before I could even process more of what was happening, there was shuffling outside of my door. I stumbled to my feet quickly and picking up the notes and balling them up. If they found out that we were exchanging notes, we would surely have trouble. I growled at the thought of having to be moved to a different sector because of it, away from the color and all of his oozing aura that made its way to my brain. I felt it clouding me but I didn't care; I wanted it to melt me. I stuffed the notes behind my bed before the door opened. The usual nurse with her usual smile accompanied by her usual orderly who guided me out of my personal space and away from Mark, the color.

Bastards.

I dealt with their usual greetings before they swept me off to breakfast. They had no clocks in this place, no way to tell time. I believed that they wanted us to remain that way, unaware of life ticking away from us so slowly. Life came and wet for all of us in this manic silence. Today, the lunch ladies looked happier than usual. The cuisine today consisting of scrambled eggs and smoked sausage. I peered carefully at my plate, the slight steam rolling from the plate making me guess that the food had been made way before we were filed in for breakfast. I took a small bite before chewing it slowly, it didn't taste bad. I came across a particularly chewy piece, some of sticking in the crowns of teeth until I let my tongue swipe it away. I winced at the taste suddenly, a bitter taste from the chewy bits. I continued to take slow, small bites until the I saw a maggot crawling through the hot eggs. It wiggled and rolled through the food before another dug its way from the hot food, making me realize what the chewiness was. As a result, I threw my plate on the floor. 

One of the orderlies came and gave me a stern warning about misbehavior or else I would be sent to the 'Happy Box'. I growled at him, my stomach churning and angrily pushing bile to my throat, wanting to empty myself of all the bites I had taken of the infested food. I sat stonily in my chair, forcing myself not to vomit. I knew that once I did, I would spend hours in the presence of an old doctor examining me. His wrinkled eyes and lines of ages crafting his ancient face as he would peer at me, trying to find the issue with me. I turned my nose up, feeling my stomach twitch as I forced the vomit back down at the thought.

I glare openly at him before looking away. I didn't care about his threats; I knew that they were meant to scare me but they didn't, not at all. I would hope that they would know by now that I have never been frightened by them. The only thing that frightened me was the thought of never escaping this wretched place. I sat back in my chair, feeling my stomach grumble from hunger after it had calmed down from its recent episode. I groan and try to soothe it by drinking some milk. It calmed down but it did still rumble slightly.

“Hey, pretty girl,” a deep, rumbling voice spoke out next to me. The power of it piercing through my chest and spreading through my veins and through my blood. I've never heard it before but the way it ricocheted through me made me recognize its addictive quality. I glanced up to see those dark eyes staring down at me. 

It was different seeing him so close. He carried a type of dusky energy with him that I had felt in my room when it crept its way through the walls. His smile was a glint of mischief and unusual charm. I stared quietly as he sat down across from me. I continued to stare at him, silently marveling at his lush appeal as he took a swig of his milk before taking a bite of his smoked sausage. He glanced at me before cutting a healthy piece of sausage and put it on a napkin. He carefully passed it to me before giving me a half-piece of toast as well, cutting a piece of his eggs to put on top of the toast.

He put the egg-covered toast on another napkin and passed it towards me. He gave me another smile before taking a bite of his own toast, gesturing towards the food.

“Eat up,” Mark said. “We have the new batch of food so the vermin hadn't invaded the food yet,” he finished, making me look down.

The food was fresh. My eyes searched carefully and I didn't see any sign of anything foreign in it. I pick up the toast, biting into it. The taste of apricot jelly and the buttery hotness filled my mouth. I lick my lips, taking another full bite of the egg and toast. My stomach rejoiced, taking a bite of the smoked sausage as well.

“I saw what you did earlier. I don't blame you, it was amusing though,” he mumbled softly before chuckling darkly. 

“It's not funny,” I say stonily. Mark raised an eyebrow at my tone, still smiling.

“I'm on your side, pretty girl. No reason to be evil...,” Mark said, his voice dropping an octave to a deeper register. The rumble rattled my bones and made me feel my blood run in a different direction before going back in its natural direction. I chew slowly before licking my lips, watching his eyes suddenly follow my tongue curiously. There had to be a reason that he was engaging me. I didn't mind it; I was drawn to him and everything that he brought with him. Despite these thoughts, I narrow my eyes at him, finishing the last bite of my toast.

“What do you want?” I ask quietly.

“I want what you want,” he replied quickly.

“You don't know what I want...,” I say lowly, watching the shift in the twinkle embedded in his eyes. 

Mark stared at me before looking around at the orderlies who kept an extra watch on us as if they were waiting on us to make one wrong move. I was actually a bit surprised that they let him share his food with me. Mark flicked his eyes at the orderlies before focusing on me once again. 

“I do, but first, I think it would be better to pursue your friendship,” Mark uttered so that the orderlies couldn't hear.

“I don't need friends,” I say, repeating the words that would always erupt from my mind whenever someone brought up the subject.

“Of course you don't. I don't need them either. Who needs friends when you have your own company?” Mark drawled, making me suddenly have the jitter of curiosity fill me, paired with my intrigue with him in general, the curiosity doubled.

I hesitated before I gave a short nod, trying to figure out what he was getting at. His eyes continued to stare me down, making me feel a bit heavy. I didn't back down from his intense gaze, seeing them up close was way different from seeing their full glory so close.

“But...if we want to do what you really want to do then we need each other,” Mark proposed, his inkwell eyes never breaking our stare. “I want to get out of here just as much as the next man, but we are the only ones who have the ability to do it,”

“What makes you think that? These people can be capable of escaping this hellhole too...,” I whisper softly, curiously as I took in his thoughts.

“Because they aren't like us...,” Mark said with a smile. “We have a different mindset than these people. They have the potential to escape but will they ever be brave enough to do it?” Mark asked.

I honestly thought about that question. Are these people brave enough? I know they all dreaded being in this place, but were they courageous enough to try to escape it all? This place was all they knew, even if they did manage to leave, where would they plan to go? It was an interesting thought; all of these lifeless bodies who wandered among each other in the daze of insanity, searching and wanting nothing but an epiphany from their God.

“We have the power, Y/N, being friends is a start,” Mark prodded gently. It wasn't hard for me to consider his proposal. If he had a way then I wanted to be a part of it. I wanted to escape yet stay in the presence of his vibrancy, his color. I had never seen anyone as vivaciously bright in presence in such a long time; I didn't want to be void of the sight ever again. Yet, I wanted to press on; I wanted to pick at him some more. I wanted to know why he wanted this from me. 

“Why do you want me to be your 'friend'?” I ask finally after a moment.

“Because I like you, Y/N,” he replied with a bright grin spreading across his golden face. His eyes scrunching up with his smile, making him seem harmless. I dared a soft smirk at him, amused by how happy he looked. 

“You don't even know me. I could tell everybody in this place about your plan and sabotage you. Why would you trust me?” I whisper delicately to him, watching his face shift slightly. His aura constantly changing in every single moment.

“Pretty girl, I know more about you than you realize. You won't say a word because you physically ache to leave this place. It's invaded the way you think, the way you act and even how you talk and think. I've had time to study you, it doesn't take me long, only a few hours...I know the ins and outs of who you are, Y/N. I know you've done the same to me,” he murmured, making my heart stop before starting back up once more.

'Things that people would never know unless they were observers like you and I. We are an anomaly, friend,” he grumbled before smiling faintly. “Even in a place where observing is suppose to be their job, they know nothing about us...,”

I sat back in my seat, looking at him with wonder as his words replay in my head, mirror my own beliefs of the people here. The doctors, the nurses who claim to be the saviors to us all in this place. I swallowed hard as I let everything digest, the food settling warmly in my belly. 

“Okay...,” I finally said, making Mark sit up in his seat. The corner of his mouth twitched with his smile. I didn't know what I was agreeing to but I any way to leave was enough. Mark didn't seem like he was a distrustful man but I did know that he knew how to talk his way in and out of a conversation, using the deep notes of his voice and the flow of his honeyed words to sway the weak-minded.

I could tell. He was trying it on me.

Luckily for me, I had the same goal as he so I didn't need too much persuading. 

“I can tell a con when I see one, Mark,” I murmur darkly. “Don't try to fool me...,”

At that, Mark let out a hearty chuckle, attracting the attention of the orderlies. Their watchful eyes were already on us but now they were searing us were we sat. I could see their minds working to try to figure out what we were talking about, wondering if they should separate us. They sneered openly as one of them walked around the table widely before walking away to stand in the corner to keep a close watch on us.

“It comes with my chosen expertise,” Mark purred suddenly. “In order to work, I have to dazzle...,”

“What is your expertise?” I ask, making him dart his eyes over my face. He smirked and looked away from me, chewing on his lip.

“Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to,” Mark said darkly as he finished up his food. 

Suddenly, the buzzing sounded, signaling the end of breakfast. I suddenly look to see that Mark had disappeared as if he was a specter. I could still feel his electric leer even in his absence. As I got up from my seat, I was quickly grabbed by the orderly who had been watching Mark and I from his dark corner. I cut my eyes up at him, looking at the stony expression on his face. The nurse quickly caught up with us as I was taking to Dr. Stewart's office for my daily chat of psychotherapy nonsense. The nurse knocked and happily greeted Dr. Stewart before I was hastily pushed inside to sit on the chair. I roll my eyes and flop down on the chair in front of Dr. Stewart. I watched as he shuffled papers on his desk, hastily as he dared a glance up at me. His hazel eyes flitting over the page before he ran his hand through his auburn hair. As he looked through his papers, trying get organized, I wondered how I would toy with him today. I would always try to be playful with the doctor, picking with him and pushing him in any way I desired. I guessed that I would be generous with him today.

“So, Y/N! How are you feeling today?” Dr. Stewart finally asked when he got everything on his desk in order.

“I'm doing alright...,” I respond, making sure to honey my tone with him to get a reaction. I smirked in amusement when his hazel eyes darted up at me before I watched his throat move up and down as he swallowed, a slight blush rising beneath his skin.

“Good...great. Um, did you do anything? Have you made any friends?” he asked, avoiding the opportunity to look at me at all costs.

“Yes...,” I say softly, making him look up at me in surprise. A smile twitched on his face as his already bright hazel eyes brightened even more. 

“T-That's wonderful, Y/N! What's their name?” he asked, suddenly perky as if his suggestions were working with me finally. I smile brighter at him to appease him even more.

“His name is Mark...,”


	4. persuasion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It feels good to update this story. Really, really good. I'm already working on the next chapter to Honey and a new one-shot as well and I'm really excited to get it all out. I haven't checked Wattpad in a while so I can only imagine what's happening over there. LMAO. 
> 
> But I hope you all enjoy this new chapter. Thank you so much for your continued support through everything!!

IV.

Mark was full of ideas, both genius and destructive but they would both combine into one another and you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between them. The way his eyes would light up with such a sinister glint when he would speak passionately about a subject or the curve of his sensitive mouth when a humorous or dark thought would cross his mind. In the few weeks that I started this so-called friendship with him, I saw different planes of his mercurial personality. He still hadn't confessed to me the subject of his work. As much as I tried to pry the information from him, he would only smirk and shake his head at me, running a hand through his thick dark locks. Bastard.

Other than the moments I shared with this complex human being, life in this hellhole went as it usually did – nothing but misery for every individual committed to this place. I stood with my face pressed against the cool, wet ceramic of the showers. I listened quietly at the loud grunts that echoed behind me, making me close my eyes. It always had to be this same orderly, he never grew tired of this. I would think that in his mind, my body would be used up, too worn out from the constant fucking that I received from him on a daily basis. Was this his way of laying claim to me? He was my first sexual experience, my only sexual experience. The water almost felt like blades of glass, cutting across my skin. My hands clenching against the wall, fingertips slipping against the soaked tiles. His warm breath ghosting down my spine as he thrusted brutally within me. The pain was blunt, familiar; he let out a loud growl as he came. His hands clenching hard at my hips, making me clench my fists tighter.

As soon as he was done, I felt the hard, wet floor collide with my weak body. The water running over my face, temporarily blinding me. Through the water clouding my eyes, I can see him walking past the nurses who had watched the entire event happen. I shakily bring my hands up to rub my eyes from the water, breathing heavily. The nurses' faces were blank, making an anger swell in my heart as it always did but I refrained from attacking them. My hands slid against the slick tiled floors as I tried to get to my feet., my heels sliding before I stood to my feet. I gave a murderous glare to the nurse that tried to come to my aide, her attention immediately going to a young girl that began to cry beneath the shower, gently prodding at her to continue bathing. I swallowed hard as I began to scrub roughly at my skin, knowing that I would have to go to my room and drink up the daily abortive tea that waited for me. Even though I could block out these moments, I always wondered when it would stop. I winced when I looked down at my arm, frowning at the raw redness of my skin. I gently rubbed across it, even the gentlest of touches making the surge of pain increase. It was as if I was trying to scrub myself from this very existence. I sighed softly, closing my eyes in relief as the nurses came to escort us out of the showers and dress us.

This was my favorite part of day, engage and pick at the brain of the color. I smirked when I spotted him in his usual seat, his black hair messy as he bit hard into an apple. I suddenly felt anxious; I didn't know why but I did. I frowned softly at the lumpy scoop of oatmeal and toast they put on a tray for me. I sniffed at the food, turning my nose up at the cold and doughy scent of it. It didn't matter. I didn't feel like eating; I don't even think that I would be able to keep it down after drinking the tea. The contents of it sloshing around in my stomach with every step I took. As I approached the table, Mark's deep voice tore through my thoughts effortlessly.

“Y/N,” he muttered deeply, letting my name roll off of his tongue. 

I looked at him with a small smile as a sat in front of him. His hand ran through his hair, pushing it out of his face as if he wanted to give me a better look at his features. His inkwell eyes looking me over as if he was trying to read me. I found that he did it a lot, wanting to pick at me or see if he could find my weaknesses. He gave me a small smirk, gently tracing the tip of his spoon around the Styrofoam of his tray.

“I have things…,” he finally said after a long moment before grinning.

I raised a brow at him before I feel a grin spread across her face as well. “What things?” I asked softly, her eyes darting up at the guard that walked around us. I couldn’t help the sneer that crossed my face as I stared the guard down. I could tell that he was listening to us. They had been eavesdropping on the bits of our conversations for the past couple of days.

“Good things. Items that can help with our goal…,” he murmured softly, being aware of the eyes on us. I watched Mark’s eyes flit around our area quickly before leaning a bit closer. 

“It was hard to try and gather them but a bit of persuasion from some gullible nurses always works,” he murmured with a smirk before sitting back in his chair. “I find it so amusing how seduction works if played correctly. The person could be the most upstanding human with these so-called ‘profound morals’ but deep inside, they crave that excitement of going against the rules. They want that chaos, to touch and indulge, to forget those morals that they so boldly display…,” he drawled, his brows moving up a bit. 

“Trash…,” he whispered softly under his breath before focusing on me again. His eyes had that familiar glint in them once more, the light dancing in his chocolate hues. His tongue flicked over his pink lips before he bared his canines in a bright smile of amusement and mischievous glee.

“So how am I supposed to acquire the ‘things’ that you have gotten…?” I asked softly, making him sigh softly. 

“You already have them…,” he murmured gently, lowering his voice so that the guards wouldn’t catch his words. “I would advise you to be weary of where you step in your room, pretty girl…,”

I stared at him, digesting the information that he gave me. I didn’t even want to bother and ask how he was able to even get into my room. I just chalked it up to him and his skill of persuasion that made it possible. I nodded softly, briefly wondering what he gathered. He tilted his head at me, still smiling as he looked me over. 

“I believe you have it in you…the trait of seducing someone. All women have it…,” he said. “Some of them just haven’t tapped into it, like yourself. You would be surprised how much of an effect it can have on the people around you…,”

“I do not bear that trait within me…,” I said quietly, letting my spoon gently stir through the stiff oatmeal on my tray. I winced when I saw traces of vermin limbs through the thick slop. 

“Try,” he simply said. “I see that you have a male as a psychiatrist. Use your womanhood to your advantage. It’s quite a gift…to be a creation of Venus…,” he murmured softly. “You can get anything you desire with a little effort. Think about where you want to be right now. I want to see how you work, pretty girl…,”

Maybe he was right. I slowly stopped stirring as I stared at him. I looked down at my oatmeal, none of it consumed but my stirring had made some of it spill out of its bowl and drip down the sides. I chewed a bit on my lip, thinking to myself. It would be relieving to see this wretched place burn to the ground, all with a little bit of persuasion and appealing to the weak will of some men. The orderlies and the guards who think they have so much control yet they have none. I blinked softly, feeling foolish for not seeing it before. Maybe it was just how well Mark was with toying with my mind…

“How do you know if it will work?” I asked, looking back up at him. “I’m not as skilled as you are in this…,”

“Practice makes perfect…,” he said with a smirk, twirling his spoon around in his hand. “Your practice starts now...,” he murmured as the buzzing that ended breakfast sounded in the air. 

I looked around, giving Mark a slight glare as he rose to his feet. He grinned as he was escorted away before I was yanked up out of my seat as well. I winced and angrily tried to pull away. I had no time to deal with their brute behavior. I close my eyes at the sound of the orderly's chuckle in my ear, his sour breath hitting my nose.

“This little bitch always has to put up a fuss, doesn't she?” he said to the nurse, who just rolled her eyes.

“Let's just get her where she needs to be. I'm tired of dealing with this fucking retards for today,” the nurse murmured. I looked when we finally reached Dr. Stewart's office. They opened the door and practically threw me inside. I smirked at the shocked expression on Dr. Stewart's face. He was never used to the way they treated the patients here. 

Poor, foolish soul.

I closed my eyes as I was guided to sit down in front of him, keeping Mark's words in mind. I had to persuade him somehow. I'm sure that it wouldn't be hard but I hate being faced with something that might cause an issue. I don't need anymore problems in this fucking prison. As always, Dr. Stewart's eyes looked at me after the orderly and the nurse left and gave me the same unfamiliar smile that he gives me. I've made him blush and fidget in nervousness so many times before and I reminded myself of that as I stared him down. I started by licking my lips and smiling at him, it was enough to get myself started on what to do next as he greeted me. 

“Well, good afternoon, Y/N,” he said, his hazel eyes staring at me. I gave him a white smile and watched him pause to look at me as if he was unsure. He tore his eyes away and scribbled on his pad as he awaited my answer. 

“I've been feeling better recently,” I lied. I have been feeling a bit better since I have the company of Mark to pass the time. 

“Do you still talk with your friend? Mark?” he asked curiously. 

“I have...he is a very interesting individual. I enjoy his company,” I mutter, staring him down. I can always see the light shifting in his eyes and the swell of curiosity grow more in his eyes at the sound of my words. I can tell that he was happy and intrigued that I had finally decided to speak to someone.   
“That's great to hear, Y/N! You're finally accepting the therapy. This is a very big step you've made. I knew you can do it,” he said, a white smile invaded his features as he then began to scribble on his notepad again. The sound of his pen moving against his paper filled my ears, making me twitch a little. 

“Yes...but it's all thanks to you,” I said, making sure to tone my voice a little lower. “I enjoy your company more than anyone else's. Do you know that?”

The doctor's eyes looked at me blankly. I fought off the urge to let a smile cross my face as I began to read him quickly before he shrouded his true reaction. I could see the small dance of intrigue in his whiskey-colored irises. 

“I'm glad to hear that, Y/N. I always try my best to help you and I'm glad you are slowly making a recovery,” he said with a faint smile as he twirled the pen in his hand.

I had to think quickly during this, my eyes quickly taking in every gesture and small movement that he made. I decided to sit up more, pushing my chest out a little more to draw attention to it. Again, I was not well-versed in the art of seduction but I was very much aware of how weak men were. I saw his eyes dart down to my chest before looking down again, watching his hand grip his pen harder as he scribbled on his paper. 

“I've been so lonely here and coming to see you is always a joy for me...,” I started, trying to keep a straight face as he looked up at me again. “The way you speak and look at me is always a treat; then, sometimes these cuffs, they get...achy and rough on my wrists. It sometimes ruins the experience...,”

“It is required by the law and the safety of you and others around you that you stay restrained. It's not I want to see you in handcuffs but you need to be, you have to understand,” he explained. “I'm sorry that they make you feel so uncomfortable. 

“No one really understands me the way that you do...,” I began again, making sure to gaze at him softly. “I-I might act like I hate visiting you but I love being with you...,”

He said nothing but he did stare at me. His eyes clearly reading me again, as if he was unsure to take in the rest of this information. He tapped his fingertips against the desk, its sound seeming louder than it usually would be. I stared back at him, wanting to make it feel like my eyes are burning through him. It seemed like an eternity before he finally moved. He bristled, the light glistening off of his glasses as he pushed them up his nose. He placed his hands flat against the desk as he stood up, continuing to look at me.

“I don't know what you're trying to do but it's not going to work,” he said firmly. 

I finally let a smile break over my face at the challenge. I could practically feel the glint in my eyes as I glared up at him.

“I'm not doing anything, doctor...,” I deadpanned, smiling wider. He refused to engage with me any further as he went to the door and told the orderly to escort me out of his office, refusing to tell him why he had ended our session so early. His eyes flashed at me, as if he was wordlessly giving me a warning.

I had got to him. 

The thought made me grin wider as the orderly yanked me up and pulled me out of the office, practically dragging me down the hall to my cell. I grunted as I was tossed like a ragdoll onto the ground. It was an instant pain, making me touch my arm. I turned away when the orderly laughed and locked my door. I laid there for a moment before crawling over to the hole at the foot of my bed where Mark and I exchanged notes. Sure enough, there was a small note awaiting for me. I opened the crumpled paper to read the handwriting that I had now become so familiar with.

How did it go?

I lifted myself up and went over to my desk, growling at the tea that had been left again from the abuse that I had suffered earlier in the shower. I didn't want to drink it, just to see what would happen in the end but I did not want to bear the burden of carrying my rapist's child. I quickly gulped the tea down, gagging a little at the sloshy cold taste. I growled, throwing the cup against the wall and hearing it break. I'm sure Mark heard it as well. I quickly pick up my pen and began to quickly scribble the note to him detailing what happened, crawling back down to the ground and shoving it through the hole. Not even a few seconds later, I received another note from him. 

You did good.

I felt a strange sense of pride fill me up at his approval. I wanted to get more of it, a smile etching across my face. Before I could react, another note was slowly pushed through the hole. I stared at it before reaching down to pick it up, slowly unfolding it. 

They gave you more tea...

I knew Mark was observant so it didn't surprise me that he knew about the tea they would give me. The better question to me seemed to be if he knew what it was for. This question in mind, I got up and wrote down the question and slid it back through the hole. I bent down lower to peer through it, hoping no one would come for me at this moment. If Dr. Stewart told them about what I had done, I doubt it if I would be able to go out for our daily 'recess'. I didn't care either way. I looked when he pushed another note through to me. I quickly picked it up and began to read it. 

They give it to all patients who are raped by the guards. It seems like you are a popular attraction though.

I just stared at the note, clenching it in my hands a little. He pushed another note through the hole. I actually felt myself hesitating before reaching down to pick it up. 

I hear it when he comes in you. I've heard it all, pretty girl.

I quickly ball up the notes and stuff them away to hide them again. I watch the hole, thinking that he was going to send another and sure enough, another note slipped through. I snatched it up and opened it up to read it.

I'll stop him.

I read the note over and over before staring at the wall, as if I could see Mark moving behind it. I wish that I could see him. He'll stop him. How? I didn't want to doubt him but I was growing more curious. I asked him how, folding the note and pushing it through to him. I soon received a reply, a smiley face etched into the white of the paper.

I have my ways...

I squeezed the paper in my hand, almost feeling it rip. My eyes staring vacantly at the wall again before a small smirk formed on my dry lips. I crawled up onto my bed, curling up on the firm mattress, the sore sting still vibrating in my back. I felt a warmth as if Mark was pressing his face against the wall to listen to me. It was a strong presence that made me feel him. My burning gaze never leaving the wall as I mulled over his words and the ominous yet interesting promise in them that made me ache for more knowledge. No one had ever piqued my interest the way this colorful being does, igniting something wild in me that can only be described as a bottled chaos that was waiting to be released. 

Yes, he surely did have his ways...


End file.
